


ReGenesis

by Medie



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our lives are our choices, change one, and we're different people, but some things can never change. Matt and Mohinder are together, they're happy, but the world around them is changing. The Company, Sylar, and a little girl named Molly. Nothing will ever be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for Heroes Big Boom. You can find art for this story by glmx - [here](http://tenebris.org/x__art/heroes_regenesis.html)

_  
If only. The two most sorrowful words in any language. If only I had said yes, if only I had said no, if only – there is a universe of lost opportunities wrapped within those two, tiny words. Where does it come from – the wish we keep buried deep within our souls to go back, to try again, to do things right. Why is it we are never entirely settled with what we have? Is it because the world that we might have created is so much better than the world which we already have?_

Would it be any better? Could we, as human beings placed within a new world with new opportunities, build something new and wonderful? Or would we merely create a world that is, ultimately, no better – or worse – in any way.

Perhaps, given the chance, we would. Perhaps, we would not. Whatever the outcome, there is one thing that we can be sure of.

We would love and hate it just the same, if only we had the chance to see it.

Phone calls in the middle of the night are never good news. Nobody calls you up at three in the morning to tell you that you've won the lottery. They definitely don't call at 4:55 just to chat; someone's sick, someone's dead, or someone's in jail.

With an FBI agent in the house, it could easily be all three.

Opening his eyes to squint at the clock, Matt yawned and tried to focus on the persistent ringing. Half-asleep, he groggily realized that the ring was the wrong one to be work. He wasn't sure whether to consider that good, or terrible. He settled for not good with status to be redetermined later. He eased up and stretched an arm out for the phone, leaning across his bedmate.

Sprawled out beneath him, Mohinder groaned in protest and lifted his head. "Izzat the phone?" he asked in a sleepy mumble.

"Nope," Matt said, "Microwave. Just go back to sleep." He kissed Mohinder's disheveled curls then answered the phone. "Hello?"

Through the static of the phone line, he could just barely make out the, "Dr. Mohinder Suresh? I'm Detective Long, NYPD? I'm afraid I have some bad news, sir."

-

His father was dead. It was, Mohinder knew, the natural order of things for son to outlive father--the offspring surviving the parent was the very thrust of nature's development--but that didn't make it any easier. The language his father and colleagues took comfort in (and hid behind), held no reassurance for him. Rather, he found such commentary to be cold.

He almost smiled, but his lips tugged downward as the solemn weight of the truth settled down on him. "It's lifeless."

"What is?" Over the international line, Nirand's voice was tinny and interrupted by static. "Mohinder?"

"Nothing," said Mohinder. "I was merely...thinking." Paying the taxi driver, he got out of the cab and looked up at the ramshackle building that housed his father's New York apartment. It was a far cry from the family home. Not that his father had spent much time there in recent years, moving on to to an apartment near the university.

Having already left India, Mohinder hadn't seen it, but he suspected it was not dissimilar to its Brooklyn counterpart. It was a thought that depressed him even more: how far his father had fallen in pursuit of his goals.

Rather, how far he'd been pushed by his own colleagues. Feeling the old resentments begin to surface, he looked away from the building and watched the traffic as it whizzed past. He did not want to do this.

He missed Matt; needed him here for this. His father wouldn't have approved, of course, but that didn't matter now. His father was dead and the dead neither approved nor disapproved of anything. They had no interest in the land of the living.

If, of course, they were even aware. Mohinder wasn't sure he subscribed to such anymore. In truth, he hadn't for a very long time.

He almost wished he did. It might have brought him some comfort to believe it. As it was, he wanted a more physical reassurance. He didn't want to walk into that apartment alone. He wanted Matt by his side when he did. He needed to hear Matt's terrible jokes as he knelt, filling boxes with his father's books and papers, his research. He knew his father: they'd be the only personal effects that mattered. The research would be the hardest part to pack away; like admitting defeat. The last battle, the one with time, finally, truly lost.

Not that getting rid of the rest of it would be difficult. The idea of walking into his father's personal space, going through equally personal things, and deciding their fate was a somber one. It was so terribly final. Within a few hours, he would be summing up the entirety of a man's life. Declaring the weight and value of each part in it. The idea that it was his father, and that he would make the decisions alone, was nigh unbearable.

Even so, alone he would be. Matt was stuck in Los Angeles. Getting leave was difficult enough for an agent on a routine investigation, but Matt's assignment was anything but routine. There was a chance he could make it later on, but for now Mohinder knew he was on his own and there were practicalities to be dealt with.

Rubbing his forehead, Mohinder considered those practicalities -- the ones in the United States and the ones without. "Nirand, if you would be so kind, could you please go to my father's apartment and box up his research? I'd like to have it and I'm afraid I don't have the time to leave the country right now."

There was a pause as Nirand considered the request. Or, Mohinder suspected, tried to think of a way to dissuade him. "You can't stop me, Nirand," he said, voice patient. "Our personal disagreements aside, I've always supported - and believed in - my father's research."   
Mohinder had done more than that. His father's research had consumed his life and Chandra had passed that obsession along to his son. He'd founded his thesis on it, made it one of his passions. He'd continued to work with it even after the 'falling out' that had sent him from India to the US. To Matt.

Pushing the thought from his mind, he focused on the conversation at hand as he walked up the front stoop and into the building. It was dark and dingy, cold even with the heat of summer outside, and Mohinder shivered. The idea of his father here alone –

"I am aware, Mohinder, how important Chandra's research has been to you, but I thought you put it aside when – " Nirand's voice faltered. This time, the interference on the international line had nothing to do with the hesitation and Mohinder found it in himself to smile. He'd given up on his family's understanding of his choices; at least for the foreseeable future. Like so many around the world, his family - and yes, even his friends - were caught up in the war between the old and new. Until that struggle reached its zenith, Mohinder saw little point in expending energy on petty squabbles. "I thought that you put it aside when the opportunity in California presented itself. You and – " again Nirand hesitated, but only for a moment before plunging ahead, "– your young man are building a life. Surely that take must take precedent."

"I never thought, Nirand, that I would hear you say that," Mohinder said, unable to stop the laughter. Of course, he didn't particularly try very hard. "When I moved to the US and met Matt, I thought –"

"You weren't wrong," said Nirand. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for that."

Mohinder smiled. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Thank you," said Nirand, fumbling the comment.

"You're welcome. At any rate, I must admit that it's quite irrelevant. I've not been as active with my research lately, but purely for professional reasons. The university has my time well occupied."

He stopped in front of the building manager's door. "My father was making progress, Nirand. The last time we spoke, just before he came to the United States, he said that he'd discovered a method for tracking the gifted and that he'd tracked one of them - his Patient Zero - to New York City. I'm hoping that he's left some sign in his apartment here, but there's a chance it's there. If it looks relevant, Nirand, I'd like you to send it."

"I will," said Nirand, "but, Mohinder, you must be careful. I know the life of a New York cab driver is a dangerous one, but if there's the slightest chance it wasn't just a robbery – "

"Then my investigating the matter could make me a target as well," said Mohinder. "I know." He raised a hand to knock at the manager's door. "I'll be careful. Thank you, Nirand."

-

"Parkman, you look like shit."

"Thanks," Matt looked up, taking the coffee his partner held out. Audrey hitched a hip up onto the corner of his desk, opening her own coffee and inhaling the steam. "My father-in-law was murdered last night, what's your excuse?"

Audrey smirked. That lasted as long as it took for Matt's words to sink in. "Fuck. Seriously?"

He nodded. "Seriously."

"Fuck," she said again, standing. Moving around his desk, she sat down at her own. They'd pushed their desks together in the middle of room allocated to their task force to give themselves more space. The walls and all other available space had been taken up with forensics reports, crime scene photos, and a thousand other bits of minutiae that an investigation accumulated. Home sweet dingy home. "How? Anybody look good for it?"

"No, nobody yet," said Matt, dumping sugar into his coffee. Damn shop never put in enough. "Somebody beat him to death in his cab. Bashed his head in." He stirred the coffee viciously, remembering the stricken look on Mohinder's face.

He'd never had much time for the elder Suresh. The man had been an absolute bastard to Mohinder, but that didn't matter now. He was dead and Mohinder was left to grieve. Worse, to feel guilty about not grieving enough.

The sensation of hot coffee splashing the back of his hand brought him out of it. "You know how it is, Audrey, they're not really looking. They'll do the usuals, make a few calls, ask some questions, and it'll be cold by the end of the week."

She nodded, her scowl twin to his. "I thought Dr. Suresh was some kind of famous geneticist? What was he doing driving a cab?"

"Paperwork hadn't come through yet," Matt said, shrugging. "Chandra came to the US on his own. From what Mohinder tells me, his research wasn't exactly sanctioned. No reputable university was going to touch him. Without a school to smooth things over and hurry the paperwork along, he was stuck."

"Fuck," Audrey shook her head. "What about you? Did you mention to the cops – "

"Yeah," Matt nodded. "Didn't do much." He couldn't blame them. The rivalries between federal and local were long-standing. An FBI agent even looking like he was trying to pull rank was bound to ruffle more than a few feathers. "If Mohinder and I lived closer, and I were working on anything top rated, then maybe it might be an issue. Maybe."

"Yeah, maybe." Audrey took a moment to sip her own coffee then looked at him. "I've got a friend in the New York office. She owes me like a million favors. Want me to give her a call? She can at least ask a few questions and see if there are any holdbacks."

"Couldn't hurt," Matt said. "See if she'll check in on Mohinder too. Things with him and Chandra were – complicated."

Audrey nodded. "No problem." She pulled her laptop closer. "I know all about complicated relationships."

"Not this kind of complicated," said Matt. He smiled wryly. "Trust me."

She looked at him a moment before understanding dawned. "Right, being the gay in India's no picnic."

"Well, no, it isn't," Matt acknowledged. "Mohinder's never talked about it, though I get the feeling that it wasn't easy, but that's not it. At least not with his father anyway." He chuckled. "Chandra viewed being gay as an evolutionary dead end."

"Oh, _nice_," Audrey said, a grin tugging at her lips. "That must've been a hell of a conversation. 'Actually, son, our cultural imperatives aren't the problem. You're flotsam in the gene pool. Sorry about that.' No wonder they were estranged."

"Nah, that wasn't it." Matt waved a hand. "They liked arguing about that. It was the research. They fought like nobody's business over it."

"Right," Audrey said. "I'll let you know what Eden finds out." She leaned across the desks, holding a folder out to him. "How about we do a little diving into work to take your mind off it? The latest forensics on the Sylar case are in."

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Matt. He took the file folder and flipped through the report inside. "It's not much."

"With Sylar, it never is." Audrey said, a growl of frustration in the words. "He makes a hell of a mess, but he never leaves a damn thing behind." She shook her head. "I can't get an angle on this one, Parkman. There's absolutely no pattern."

"There's a pattern," Matt said. "We can't see it yet, but there's a pattern. You don't just start cutting open people's heads for no reason." His stomach churned as he looked over the crime scene photos. He'd never been able to get used to this part of it. Seeing someone's dead body, their head cut open and brains scattered about like that? He swallowed hard, regretting the sandwich he'd eaten on his way in. "There has to be something these people have in common. The method of murder's way too ritualized to be otherwise."

"Ritualized? He cuts their heads open and he tears the place up when he does." Audrey leaned over. "How the fuck is that ritualized?"

"Ritualized might be the wrong word," said Matt, "but the posing? There's something about it." He sat back, tossing the file down in front of him. He really should have paid more attention the last time the gang in the BSU'd given one of their seminars. A guy like Sylar was right up their alley. "This may sound crazy," he said, "but the patterns in the blood almost look like a kid playing with fingerpaint. The whole thing looks that way."

"Child's play," Audrey said. She looked into her coffee, making a face at it. "That's twisted, Parkman."

"It's also right," Matt said. "Whatever Sylar wants in their heads, he has fun with them before he's done."

"Yeah, but _how_?" Audrey asked. "You saw those pictures, Matt. There is no way one guy could do all that. He'd have to be Superman!" She pointed at him. "You make one joke and I swear, there will be pain."

"No jokes," Matt said, holding up a two fingers. "Scout's honor. I dunno how he's doing it, maybe he's high on PCP or something, but he's doing it on his own." He nodded at the file. "He doesn't exactly play well with others."

"Still," said Audrey. "The science is pretty clear. Physically, it'd be damn near impossible for any ordinary person to commit a crime like that alone."

"Well, maybe he got bit by a radioactive spider or something," said Matt, shrugging. He grinned, dodging the paper ball she threw at him. "Come on, Audrey, you've got to admit, we've seen weirder."

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Matt, this guy throws bodies around like matchsticks, cuts people's heads open, and stirs up their brains. At what point have we _ever_ seen weirder?"

He shrugged easily. "We haven't, I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Yeah, well, you suck at it," Audrey said.

Matt opened his mouth, the quip ready and waiting, but thought better of it when she glared. "I'll work on that," he said instead.

"You do that," she agreed, slumping down in her chair. "Let me know how it goes."

-

"Parkman," said Audrey, sticking her head into the room. Before she could speak, Matt knew. The look in her eyes made it so absolutely clear, he could almost hear what she was thinking, saying, "Sylar struck again." in time with her.

Audrey glowered at him and Matt grinned. "What?"

"That's annoying," she said. "I already have one asshole to deal with, I don't need another one."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh come on, Audrey. I'm no serial killer."

For a moment, Audrey actually looked like she might laugh. Apparently, though, reason prevailed and the suggestion of amusement vanished like it had never been. Stone-faced, she said, "That's because you're a damn lucky man. I've eaten your cooking." Her expression, or lack thereof, told Matt exactly what she thought of his culinary skills. "Not that I'd call it _cooking_."

"Oh, like you're such an expert," said Matt. "You can't boil water."

"Nope, and I can't eat tar either," said Audrey. "And that's usually what your cooking tastes like."

Matt made a face. "Now you're just being cruel."

"Stuff it, Parkman," said Audrey. "Now, come on, we've got bodies waiting."

'I know," said Matt. He waggled his eyebrows. "You had that look in your eye."

She grabbed his coat, and threw it at him. "Good, because if it was going to be one of _those_ speeches – "

"Speeches?" asked Matt, catching the coat before it could smack his face. "I don't give speeches." He shuddered at the thought. The best part about their assignments, usually anyway, was that they flew beneath the radar. He hated briefings as much as he hated speeches since, you know, they were pretty much speeches with boring supplementary material. Mug shots and crime scene photos did not riveting viewing make.

Audrey rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I don't buy into that shit about partners and mind-reading."

With a grin, Matt shrugged into his coat. "Who says I did?"

She turned (before he could see her smile) and grabbed her gun, holstering it. Her ID went into her pocket and her sunglasses on her face. Ready for action. "You're the one with the boyfriend who says we can all read minds and fly."

"So?" Bumping her with his elbow, Matt dodged her retaliatory swing. "And he says God's a cockroach. I don't believe that one either."

"Well, he should thank the cockroach he's pretty," said Audrey. She went for the elevator, quick, short strides that ate up more ground than his longer legs. "Talk like that'll get him shot."

"Fundamentalists?" asked Matt, leaning past her to hit the call button.

She looked up and smirked. "Exterminators."


	2. Chapter 2

"We got a name on these people?" Getting out of the car, Matt looked up at the house. It was a nice place. They'd lived well, for all the good that it had done them.

"Walkers," said Audrey, consulting her notebook. "Husband James, wife Maria, and a daughter. Ten. Molly." As Matt turned, she held up a hand and shook her head. "She's not in there. PD's searched the house twice. There's no sign of her."

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Well, that's something."

"Please," snorted Audrey. "Sylar's not going to suddenly develop a conscience because of a kid. You saw what he did to that family in New Mexico. We're not talking about a guy who gives a shit about kids." She flashed her badge at an approaching patrolman. "Any sign of the little girl?"

Matt looked at the patrolman as she continued to quiz him. The kid was probably barely out of the academy and he'd never seen a murder scene like it before. The pallor of his skin and the sweat shining above his collar suggested he'd lost his lunch.

Not that Matt could blame him. The way that Sylar treated his victims had sent more than a few seasoned investigators running for the bushes.

'_God, I wish she'd hurry up, she keeps going on about this, I'm gonna lose breakfast. Lunch is so way history already._'

Matt barely heard the whispered words. Almost inaudible, the kid was finished speaking almost before he realized it. Taking a moment to think over what he'd heard, he looked at the kid. "You okay?"

"Fine, sir," said the patrolman, his greenish face belying his words. "Just a little – spooked."

"You said -- " Biting off the words – he wasn't sure what the kid had said – Matt tried again. "If you think you're gonna lose it again, go sit in your car." He tipped his head toward the house. "Believe me, nobody's going to blame you if you do." He grimaced with the memory. "Been there myself."

"Thanks, sir," said the patrolman, "but I'm fine. I can handle it."

"Sure you can," said Matt. "You already lost lunch, you want breakfast to join it? Go sit in the car, take a few deep breaths and think about the weather or baseball. Anything but that house, got it?"

"Yessir." The patrolman nodded, pivoting and heading through the crowd. He didn't look happy, but Matt had a feeling that, this time, looks really were deceiving.

_Please don't find me._

At first, he thought he was imagining the whispered voice. They were standing outside a murder scene. Where there weren't cops, there were forensics people, where there weren't forensics people, there was FBI, and where they weren't, the press was trying to sneak a peek. In short, Matt was standing in the middle of bedlam. How the hell did you hear a little girl whispering in the middle of all that?

And yet --

_Please don't find me, please don't find me. _

It was definitely a little girl's voice, but no one else seemed to be hearing it. Audrey was staring after the patrolman, an annoyed look on her face that said he was going to get a lecture later. She hadn't been done with the kid before he sent him packing.

Matt turned in a slow circle, trying to figure out which direction the sound had come from. His confusion must have shown on his face, because Audrey forgot about the patrolman too. "Parkman? Something up?"

"Shush," hushed Matt. He turned away and started toward the house. "I heard something." He didn't wait for Audrey as he threaded his way through the crowd, annoyed by the fact no one else seemed to be paying attention. How could he be the only one?

"Matt, what the fuck?"

Stopping, he looked back at her. "Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Audrey, rushing to catch up. "What could you possibly hear in this zoo?"

"The kid," said Matt. "I swear I hear the little girl, or _a_ little girl. Whatever, I just -- " _Please don't find me. Oh_ please_ don't find me_. It was coming from inside the house. At least, he _thought_ that it was coming from inside the house. He moved forward at a slower pace, hesitant to create more noise and drown it out.

If she was in there, then he had to find her. She was a witness. More importantly, she was a traumatized little girl. He could feel the fear radiating from her outside. The poor kid. She had to be terrified. What she'd seen --

He wanted to shudder just thinking about it.

"Parkman," said Audrey, confusion and annoyance warring for control in her voice. "What the fuck is going on? You can't seriously think you _hear_ Molly Walker."

Matt glared over his shoulder at her. "Will you shut up?"

She glared back. "Fuck off."

"You know, Parkman, if I didn't know your boyfriend was prettier than I am? I'd start to wonder about you two." Elisa Thayer, their boss and a statuesque redhead, came to a stop beside them. "You and Hanson argue like an old married couple."

"Right," said Audrey. "Like I'd be that nuts. Suresh can have him."

Matt barely heard either one of them. The little girl's whisper was reaching out again, louder now, and getting louder with every step. He let that draw him away from his partner and his boss, up the stone steps and into the house. _Please don't find me, please don't find me._

Around him, some of the personnel stopped their work to look up. Most didn't. The ones that did went back to work as soon as his identity registered on him. They'd seen him before. It wasn't the first Sylar scene for a lot of them.

He stepped around, over, and under things until he reached the dining room. There, the sight of the bodies brought him up short.

"Oh my god," said Audrey.

"Yeah." Matt momentarily let the mystery of the whispering slide as he stared. The father, James, sat at the kitchen table. As usual, he was missing the top of his head. As usual. The fact that it had become _normal_ creeped him the fuck out, but not as much as the fact that James Walker was quite literally frozen. The slowly melting ice crystals were dripping around him as evidence techs frantically tried to recover anything valuable.

James's wife, Maria, was worse. Matt turned around with Audrey and looked up at her. Maria Walker had been pinned, with dinner knives, to the wall. Looking at her made his stomach lurch.

"Audrey?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever else we do, we are getting this son of a bitch."

_Please don't find me._

Shit. Molly.

Matt looked around the room, trying to see where the sound was coming from. His gaze settled on a door at the far end of the room. Blocked by an overturned chair and end table, it looked abandoned.

Something told him otherwise.

_Hang in there, kiddo,_ he said and crossed the room in several quick strides. The pleading reached a fever pitch as he grabbed the chair, pulling it away from the door. The end table got the same treatment, both of them ending up wherever they happened to land.

The sound of Audrey's surprised curse said it had nearly been on her. Matt made a mental note to apologize later as he wrenched the door open.

He found Molly Walker huddled in the little closet. Her arms wrapped tight around her little legs, she looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. At the sight of him bending over her, she let out a wail and tried to scramble backward.

"Hey!" Matt dropped to his knees, reaching out for her. "It's okay, Molly, it's okay. It's me." He scrambled for his badge, holding it out for her to see. "I'm a police officer. Sort of." He frowned, shaking his head. This was so not going well. "I'm an FBI agent. I used to be a police officer, but then I went – ah, who cares."

He did his best to look unassuming. "See?" He put the badge on the floor, pushing it toward her. "You can look for yourself. I'm a good guy. A cop." He smiled. "You're safe now."

Still sniffling, Molly reached out and picked up the badge. She gave it a long, scrutinizing look and then passed it back to him. "He killed my Mom and Dad."

"I know," said Matt. He glanced back, looking at Audrey. They'd drawn an audience and he didn't really want Molly having to go through that. It was going to be difficult enough getting her past the press and into the car. He didn't want to make it any harder on her.

As if reading his mind – and wouldn't he razz her about that one later – Audrey shepherded the crowd away from the corner. Hopefully that would give them enough room to work with.

"I'm sorry," said Matt. "About them. I wish we could have gotten here sooner." He wished they'd caught the son of a bitch sooner. This little girl deserved better. Not only had she lost both her parents, she'd probably witnessed it happen.

He'd never really hated a suspect before, but Matt was dangerously close to hating this one. "I know you probably don't want to, but it is safe to come out now. He's gone."

Molly shook her head. "Not for long. He's gonna come back. He's gonna come back to get me." She leaned forward, her voice dropping into a whisper. "He was gonna kill me too, but Daddy stopped him and I hid."

How James Walker had done that, Matt didn't know. He wished he didn't have to ask her. If he could have reached into her head and plucked out the story, it would have made it so much easier. The idea of making her relive it was gutwrenching. "I -- " he fell silent, then smiled sheepishly. "I don't really know what to say. I'm not that good at this."

Molly inched closer, the wide-eyed terror beginning to subside. "It's okay. I don't think anyone is."

"That's a pretty smart thing to say," said Matt.

She actually smiled, nodding. "My Mom says I'm pre – " she stopped, her expression dropping. "My Mom used to say I was precocious."

Matt might not have been good at these things, but he knew one thing. He wasn't going to make a big deal of the moment. She had a lot to work through, and he knew the Bureau would find her good people to help her do just that, but he remembered losing his Mom. The little moments were bad, people making a fuss about them were worse.

"Precocious, huh?" he asked. "Since you using that word qualifies? I'm gonna have to agree." This time, he edged a little closer to her. "You know, we need to get you out of here. Sitting in a closet with a boring old FBI agent? Not fun for a kid your age."

_He's not boring._

"Yeah, I am," said Matt, shrugging. "I'm a boring old guy who watches bad movies, eats cold pizza for breakfast and razzes his -- " he stopped, briefly stymied by how to explain Mohinder. Molly was a kid. They probably hadn't even gotten around to the birds and the bees yet, much less that extra special chapter. On the other hand, she was pretty smart, and this was LA. "Yeah, I'm the guy who eats the pizza, razzes the boyfriend, and is asleep by ten."

Molly reacted immediately. She looked at him, eyes wide again, but not with fear. If he had to guess, he would have called it excitement. She rose up on her knees, asking in a hushed whisper, "Why'd you say that?"

"Um, well," Matt scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. "I know some people have very different lives, Molly, but -- "

"Not that!" said Molly, looking over his shoulder. Matt turned, following her gaze. Audrey had cleared most of the people away from the door. She swept past, sheets in hand, and cast a look his way.

He nodded, she nodded back, and he turned around, leaving her to build the impromptu barrier. No kid should have to see that. Molly had sat back as well. Whether Audrey's movements was what had drawn her attention, or not, Matt couldn't say, but she was apparently satisfied. Whatever it was, he was satisfied to let it drop. "You told me why you were boring."

"Because you said I wasn't," said Matt. He frowned. "You're not confused about my boyfriend?"

"No, _duh_," said Molly, rolling her eyes. "Sam and Will live across the street. They went to Canada and got married last month. They brought me a stuffed moose." She shook her head. "That's not it. I didn't _say_ you weren't boring. I _thought_ it."

"No," said Matt. "You said it."

She shook her head fiercely. "No, you didn't. You're like me. You're like my Dad." The fear crept back into her eyes and she pulled back. "That's why Sylar came. That's why Sylar wants to kill us."

He watched, somber, as she sat back and pulled her legs up again. "Molly -- " he couldn't tell her that Sylar didn't. Everything they'd seen about Sylar said everything to the contrary. Sylar killed at will. Whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and it didn't seem like there was a damn thing they could do to stop him.

"I can't read your mind, Molly," he said. "It just – I can't. You must have said it without thinking. People don't read minds. It's crazy."

"No, it isn't," said Molly. "You're special. Like me. Sylar's going to come for you too." She looked agonized by the thought. "He hates people like us."

Matt reached out, scooping her up into his arms. "Sylar won't get you, Molly," he vowed, meaning every word. "I'm not going to let it happen."

He didn't have a fucking clue how he was going to do it, but he meant every damn word. Whatever she was talking about with the mind-reading and the special people talk might have been crazy, but it was the closet thing to a motive they'd ever heard for Sylar.

Molly believed it; maybe Sylar did too.

And if Sylar did. If he thought Molly was one of these 'special people' then maybe he wasn't done with her yet. That meant neither was Matt.

He carried her out of the house, taking a route to avoid the bodies and the press outside. It meant ducking through bushes and scraping his cheek on a bramble, but he did it. Ignoring the stinging pain, he called Audrey on his cell phone as he settled Molly into the car. "Cancel the call to child services. She's coming home with me."

There was a silence, then Audrey's cautious voice, "You okay, Parkman?"

"I'm fine. Molly's got some crazy theory about why he's doing this. If she got it from Sylar, then there's a pretty damn good chance he's not finished with her yet. You think it's a good idea to let DFS handle her protection?"

"Point taken," said Audrey. "I'll call, but you realize Thayer's gonna have kittens over this one."

"Oh yeah, but that's _nothing_ compared to what Mohinder's going to say." Matt flipped the phone shut and looked down at Molly. She clutched her stuffed moose tighter and looked back.

"I'm scared," she said.

He leaned in through the car window, looking her square in the eye. She needed to know he was on the level about this. "I know. So am I."

She put the moose in her lap, picking at the ribbon around its neck. "You know, that's kinda not very reassuring."

"Yeah, I know," said Matt. "I told you, I'm not very good at this."

Molly dimpled, giving him a glimpse of the child she'd been yesterday. "It's okay, you'll get better."


	3. Chapter 3

Mohinder stood in the New York City morgue, the enigmatic Eden on one side and a bored-looking attendant on the other, staring down at the drawer upon which rested his father's nude body.

A sheet served as an attempt at modesty, but did nothing to hide the stitches that were the result of his autopsy. Looking him, looking at _them_, left a knot in Mohinder's stomach and he wished as desperately for Matt as he'd ever wished for anything in his life. He wanted nothing more than to feel Matt's fingers curl round his and squeeze. Against his own pants, his fingers felt cold and clammy.

"Sorry," said the attendant, "but I have to -- " he trailed off, shrugging at the body.

"For the official record," said Eden, a soft hand on Mohinder's arm. It wasn't the touch that he so desperately needed, the hand far too tiny for that, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. "You have to say it."

He looked at her, trying for a smile that was more than wan and weary. He was afraid that he fell far short of that. If it even counted as a smile, he would have been quite surprised. "You have experience in this, do you?"

She smiled. It was a tiny gesture to accompany the slight nod. "Unfortunately. I've had a few friends -- " she sighed. "Drugs."

Mohinder added it to what little that he knew of her for later review and looked at the attendant. "Yes, this my father." He wondered if that might not be enough so he added, "Yes, this is Chandra Suresh," just in case.

The attendant made note of the official identification. "Thank you." With that done he left them alone. Ostensibly, he insisted, so they might say their goodbyes. He had no way of knowing the only goodbyes that father and son would say, the ones that mattered, had been said years ago.

At any rate, given the circumstances, he wouldn't know what to say anyway.

In the absence of those goodbyes, Mohinder stood still, frozen, and stared down at the lurid bruising that decorated the side of his father's head. They'd cleaned the blood from the wounds, but that made them no less ugly.

The part of him still capable of scientific objectivity marvelled at the force it would have taken to cause such damage, the violent frenzy the killer must have been in. The part of him that was human, that was his father's son, made him run from the room and leave a shocked Eden at his father's side.

-

"Are you sure about this?" asked Molly. She looked over her shoulder at the imposing building. "Cause I'm not."

Neither was Matt. It had made sense back at the crime scene, where getting her away from the house, what had happened there, and the swarm of reporters had been his top priority. Standing outside the building, however, made his perception shift. Sure, they needed to interview her, she was Sylar's sole surviving witness. The one person who had any idea what the bastard looked like.

The one loose end he had to tie up.

Forcing a cheerful smile, Matt held out his hand. "Trust me. We're going to go in, talk to a couple people, and then we're going to figure out where you're going to sleep tonight."

Molly looked skeptical as she took the offered hand. "Can't I just go home with you?" She bit her lip, her free hand tightening on overnight bag. "I can't go home, so can I go with you?"

"I don't know," said Matt. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her. "I really don't. Normally, in this situation, you'd probably stay with a -- " he frowned. "Well, a foster family."

"But this isn't normal," said Molly. "_He's_ still out there."

God, he hated the fact that she knew that. He hated the fact that she knew Sylar was going to come after her. He hated the whole fucking situation and, _god_ he missed Mohinder. "Yeah," he said. "He's still out there, but I don't know if they'll let you come home with me. The circumstances -- "

"Is this cause of your boyfriend?" asked Molly. "They're not gonna be that dumb, are they? I'm in _danger_." She squeezed his hand. "You've got to protect me, Agent Parkman." She smiled. "I'm not gonna let anybody else do it. They don't have anybody else like you."

"God, I hope not," said Matt.

_Not like that!_ Molly rolled her eyes.

It took him a heartbeat to realize she hadn't spoken aloud. "I _heard_ that." He swallowed hard. "I heard you _think_ that."

Eyes shining with excitement, Molly bounced on her heels and nodded. "I told you, you're like me!"

He didn't quite think so, but he wasn't going to argue it. The kid had just lost her parents. She was desperate for something good to hold onto. Imagining that he was some kind of superhero probably was just what the doctor ordered. "You keep saying that, kiddo, but I'm not exactly sure what you mean."

Molly looked up at him, her gaze taking on a knowing edge. "Oh yeah you do." She tugged n his hand, pulling him down to her level. "We'll talk about it later. When we go back to your house."

Arguing with her would have been pointless. She wasn't going to listen and she was right, at least on one level, wherever Molly ended up that night, she'd be under FBI protection. It actually made sense it be with him. He was one of the agents running the investigation.

The question was: would Thayer see it that way?

He stood up. "Well, let's go inside. There's a lot of people who want to talk to you."

"This is gonna be boring, isn't it?" asked Molly.

"If you're lucky," said Matt. "But we have juice. Juice makes everything better." He grinned at the amused way she rolled her eyes. "It _does_." Granted, his idea of juice making things better generally came with vodka and Mohinder, so it kind of didn't fit, but _still_.

It kind of did.

-

"She seems to be doing well," said Audrey, closing the door. Behind her, in the interview room, Molly was happily attacking a snack. A notepad and box of crayons lay temporarily abandoned at her elbow. "Has she freaked or anything?"

"Not yet," said Matt. "But she will. It's only a matter of time. I've been keeping her pretty distracted." He slipped his hand into his pocket, finding his cell phone. The temptation to give Mohinder a call was growing by the minute. "She wants to come home with me tonight."

Audrey looked at him. "That's not a bad idea. Foster care is out. We can't take the risk of Sylar attacking them. Your house would make as good a safehouse as any. Good neighborhood, well lit, and we can tuck surveillance teams in a couple spots. You'd be surrounded."

"Think Thayer'll go for it?" asked Matt.

"We can give it a shot." Audrey nodded. "We're going to need to put the kid somewhere safe. Why not with you? Mohinder's out of town, so the situation is pretty contained. I can't think of one better. God knows, she won't."

Leaning a hip against the wall, Audrey looked into the room. _Poor kid, she's got nobody._

"She's got us, now," said Matt. "I'm not leaving this kid alone Audrey."

Audrey grinned. "Biological clock finally kicking in? I didn't think you and Mohinder were the domestic type."

"Fuck off, Audrey," said Matt. He smirked. "Besides, you haven't seen my "Kiss the cook" apron. Trust me, it is a thing of beauty." He looked back at Molly, his smile fading. "I'm not saying we're going to do anything permanent. Hell, Mohinder doesn't even know about her yet. I'm just -- " he shook his head. "I can't just leave this kid alone. Been there."

"Your dad's not dead," said Audrey.

"He might as well have been," said Matt, scowling. He watched Molly finish her juice and reach for the crayons again. "I pretty much raised myself. Me and the foster kids next door. I know there are some good foster parents out there, but I don't want to trust it to chance. Not when I can do something about it."

"Do something about what?" asked Thayer, coming to stand between them.

Audrey gave Matt a look. "Parkman has a proposal."

-

Settling in at his desk, Matt pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open and stared at the screen. No missed calls. Mohinder hadn't checked in yet. He wasn't sure how to take it. Good sign or bad sign.

Worry gnawed at him as he contemplated calling. He needed to tell Mohinder about Molly, and he wanted to know how things were going, but that was the part hanging him up. How did a guy go about bringing that subject up. 'Hi, honey, how goes identifying your father's body? They have any idea who smashed his head in?'

He flipped the phone shut and slapped it down on the desk. "Damn it."

"You keep doing that," said Audrey, "and you're going to break it."

"Be my third one this month," said Matt. He looked over at her, watching her sit down with a stack of files. "He hasn't checked in yet and I'm worried. I should call, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duh. I swear, Parkman, it's a miracle you two actually hooked up in the first place. I've never met two more emotionally incompetent people in my _life_." Audrey let the files thump down onto her desk and started sorting through them. "Of course you have to call him. His father was just murdered for god's sake. He needs to hear your voice."

Shaking her head, Audrey muttered something under her breath that he couldn't make out. What he did hear was something else entirely.

_C'mon, Parkman, catch a clue. You two fuck this up and I'll officially lose all faith in romance._

"Geez," said Matt, standing. "No pressure."

"What?" Audrey looked at him blankly. Fuck. He really needed to figure out what the hell was going on. "You say something?"

"Yeah," said Matt. He held up his phone. "Gonna step outside."   
-

Closing the door of his father's apartment, Mohinder slumped back against it. He listened to the silence in the hallway, picturing Eden standing where he'd left her by her apartment door.

He didn't trust her.

It concerned him. He had no reason not to. She'd given him no reason to distrust her. In fact, she'd been nothing but supportive from the moment they met. Still, that did little to change the feeling that he couldn't trust her. Something in him just couldn't.

Sighing softly, he crossed the room and looked down at his father's papers. Somewhere in them was the answer to why his father was dead. The same instinct that warned him against trusting Eden was insisting as much.

He sat down and pulled his father's laptop toward him. He'd searched it once and found nothing, but it didn't hurt to try again. "Pity I'm hardly an expert with these things, but then neither was my father."

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and, hoping it was Matt, Mohinder pushed the laptop back. Standing, he took the phone out of his pocket and sighed in relief. _Matt_. "I've been hoping you would call."

"Ditto," said Matt. He was silent for a moment and Mohinder smiled, picturing his face. Though he was a man that felt things deeply, Matthew had never been particularly comfortable expressing them. Not that it mattered. He could feel the worry radiating over the line and thought it more than enough. "Listen -- "

"It was terrible," said Mohinder, answering quickly to save Matt any fumbling about. He understood it, but he also understood how much it bothered Matt. "They misfiled him, Matt. A _murder victim_. We went through three John Does before we finally located the body."

Matt cursed viciously. "Guess that tells us how the investigation's going."

"Or isn't, as the case may be," said Mohinder. "It's odd, though." He tapped one finger against the desk, recalling his conversation with the morgue attendant. "I asked about the investigation, whether an autopsy had been done and the like – " He hesitated. "Well, it was quite odd."

"What was?"

"The attendant didn't know any Detective Long. The attendant had never heard of him and his name was nowhere to be found in their records. Quite frankly, Matt, I didn't have a good feeling about this before I came out here -- "

"And now you're sure of it," said Matt. "You and me both. Whatever the hell is going on out there, it's not just a random cabbie killing."

"Quite not," said Mohinder. "Do you think you'll be able to get away? I'm afraid my experience in conducting an impromptu murder investigation is sorely lacking."

"God, I wish I knew," said Matt. "Things got very complicated here very fast. That's part of why I called you. I needed to explain a few things."

Mohinder got up, turning away from the computer desk. The odd note in Matt's voice was worrying and he felt a knot form in his stomach. "Matthew, you haven't been shot have you?"

"What? Oh god, no!" said Matt, laughing. "It's nothing like that, Mohinder. I'm _fine_. It's just complicated. Sylar struck again."

It was Mohinder's turn to curse, slipping into his native tongue for one of its more creative oaths. The name Sylar had become dinnertime talk in their household, at least when it wasn't persona non grata. Mohinder had heard just enough about Sylar to hate the man. A serial killers went, the man seemed to be no different from the others that Matt had pursued, not even with the large body count and ever-increasing violence. The sole difference seemed to be the bizarre crime scenes he left in his wake. The media hadn't gotten ahold of them yet, but they would, and that was the problem. The longer they went without it hitting the news, the bigger a story it would be when it finally did, the more agitated Matt's superiors got and, as a result, came down that much harder on him. It was a vicious cycle and Mohinder hated Sylar for locking them into it. "How many dead?"

"Two. Husband and wife." Matt's frown was almost audible. "We had one survivor."

"Oh no," said Mohinder, stopping by the window. "Please don't tell me -- "

"She's ten and, yeah, she's our sole witness."

"She _saw_ him?" Mohinder rubbed his forehead, groaning. "I suppose this is terrible of me, but I wish she hadn't."

"You're not the only one," said Matt. "We're going to put her into protective custody. It's just, well, Mohinder, the protective custody is me. I'm taking her home."

"The spare sheets are in the upstairs closet by the bathroom," said Mohinder immediately. "The numbers for the restaurants which deliver are by the downstairs telephone and I'll be home on the next flight."

That made Matt laugh, then snort. "Hey, I'm not _that_ inept. I cook!"

"Well, I suppose you could call it that," said Mohinder. "If, that is, you used the term _very_ loosely. You do dial like a master, however."

"Smartass," said Matt, voice dropping into a familiar, affectionate tone. "I'm stuck in the worst case of my career, and you're mocking my cooking skills? Have you no shame?"

"None whatsoever," said Mohinder. "Just promise me, Matthew, that you won't poison the child before I get there." It didn't take much consideration to picture exactly that happening. There had been that mild case of food poisoning he'd gotten when Matt had insisted on cooking dinner one Fourth of July. He still suspected Matt's chicken salad'd had something to do with it.

Of course, Matt had more than made up for it with his quite competent nursing skills. "I'm sure there will be a flight leaving for Los Angeles -- "

"Whoa," said Matt, cutting him off swiftly. "Hang on a second, Mohinder. I never said anything about you coming back here. It's probably safer if you don't."

Frowning, Mohinder looked around the apartment. "I don't think I agree."

"Of course you don't," said Matt, laughing. "That doesn't make you right. I'm taking Molly into protective custody, Mohinder. She's our sole living witness and there's a pretty good chance Sylar's going to take a shot at her. There's no way in hell I want you anywhere near this."

Not as much as Mohinder didn't want _Matt_ anywhere near this. This was different. Matt was putting himself into the line of fire, between Sylar and one of his targets. The very thought of it made his blood run cold. "I don't like the idea of you alone with that monster."

"I won't be," said Matt. "We've got a plan, Mohinder. I promise. We've got the perimeter as covered as we can possibly get."

"Given what I've heard of Sylar, that doesn't leave me particularly reassured," said Mohinder.

"I'll be fine," said Matt. "I promise."

That didn't make Mohinder feel better either. "I should come home."

"You should stay there," said Matt. "Please. It'll make me feel better knowing you're out of the line of fire. I promise I will order healthy food, she'll brush her teeth, and we'll both be asleep – watched by dozens of hyper-vigilant agents – by ten."

"Liar," said Mohinder.


	4. Chapter 4

Matt laughed. "You're right, it's probably going to be more like fifty." Leaning against the wall, he looked up at the sky and wished he hadn't quit smoking. If there was ever a time he needed a cigarette... He sighed. "Mohinder, I don't like this plan, but it's the best one we've got. The only thing about it I _do_ like is the fact you're on the other side of the country. The idea of you in the middle of this scares the hell out of me."

Mohinder was silent for a moment, the static on the line and the faint sound of his breathing were the only things Matt could hear. He'd scored with that comment. Mohinder had never been completely okay with Matt's job. It wasn't like his time on patrol with the LAPD and that was something Mohinder counted on, but not this time. Not with Sylar and all the unknown variables the man seemed to cause. "I need you safe, Mohinder," said Matt. "And if I can't have that, I'll just have to settle for safer."

"I know," said Mohinder. "Logically, I know the arrest teams will be standing by, but -- "

"Yeah," said Matt. He scuffed his shoe against the wall, listening to the pepples scattering across the sidewalk. The late afternoon smog had settled over the city and he could feel it tickling at his throat. He tilted his head and closed his eyes against the sun's lingering brightness. "I'm scared too."

He didn't mention why. He wanted to. He wanted to tell Mohinder the truth, but, somehow, it just didn't seem like the time. Telling guy in your life, the guy you're planning your future with, that you just might be hearing the thoughts of others – that a 10 year old was sure of it – over the phone, while he wraps up his father's final affairs...yeah, really not the time.

"Believe me, Mohinder, I want you here. You have no idea just how much, but I want you safe more." Matt scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Besides, if Sylar tries something, the house is going to be a complete mess. I need a chance to clean it up before you see it."

"_Matthew_."

Matt laughed at Mohinder's groan of dismay, but felt a tightening in his chest with the sound. "You know, it's not fair of you to make that noise when we're thousands of miles apart. Not fair at all."

"Well, it's also not fair of you to walk into the line of fire when we're thousands of miles apart," said Mohinder. "File it under 'turnabout is fair play' and suffer." His chuckle went with the comment. "And be safe."

Matt smiled. "I'll give it my best shot." Walking back inside, he took the stairs two at a time. Static cluttered up the line, but the phone didn't drop out before he reached his floor. Opening the door, he saw Molly following Thayer and Audrey out of the interview room, looking around with interest. Her face brightened when her eyes met his. He waved and she waved back. "Gotta say, right now, I'm more worried about Molly. She seems okay, but what she witnessed? She's got to be hiding some severe traumas." The nightmares were going to be _intense_.

Mohinder would deal with that better than he would. God knew, old Maury wasn't exactly father-of-the-year material. He'd never learned anything from his father and his mother hadn't been there. At least Mohinder'd had his mother. He must have picked up a thing or two.

"She'll be fine," said Mohinder. "She has you. You'll know what to do, Matthew. Trust your instincts."

"Yeah," said Matt, disdain coloring his words. "I'll just ask myself what would the old man do –- "

"And then do the exact opposite," said Mohinder. Matt could almost see him nodding, that approving smile on his face. "Precisely."

"Well, it's not much of a plan," said Matt, "but it's going to have to do for now." It was going to have to be. As much as he wanted Mohinder with him, that just wasn't possible. Not right now. "I love you," he said.

He could hear Mohinder's smile as Mohinder responded, "I love you too."

"I'll call you tomorrow," promised Matt. "Let you know I'm still alive."

"That's not funny, Matt."

"No, but a lame attempt at humor is better than none," said Matt. "I don't know if this will be over tonight or not. It's possible. If it is, I'll be the one hopping the flight. You shouldn't be alone."

"Surprisingly enough, I'm not," said Mohinder. "My father – there was a young woman here that he befriended. His neighbor. She's been helping me." He hesitated. "She went with me when I identified the body."

It was a relief, knowing that Mohinder hadn't had to do that alone. "Good," said Matt. "Just be careful."

"Indeed." Mohinder sighed. "I just can't shake the feeling that whatever happened, it wasn't a mugging, Matt. The longer that I'm here, the more I'm convinced that it was about his research."

"Go with your gut," said Matt. "No one else can understand the situation like you can, but Mohinder, _promise me_ you won't do anything stupid. Don't go chasing after your father's killer alone and I don't mean bring along the cute girl next door. I've got friends in New York. Agents I've worked with. I'll text you their numbers."

When Mohinder didn't answer, Matt frowned. "Promise, Mohinder."

With a heavy sigh, Mohinder said, "I promise."

Mollified, Matt smiled. "Good. Now, about this neighbor, just how cute is she?"

"Matthew!" laughed Mohinder, "I can't believe you just asked me that."

"Yeah, well, this is me, Matt Parkman, king of inappropriate humor," said Matt. "Someone had to break the mood. We were getting pretty intense and I've got it on good authority that if we blow up, Audrey's gonna kill me."

"That is absolutely ridiculous," said Mohinder. "If she were going to kill you she would have done it a long time ago and for far better reasons."

"Okay, point," said Matt. He opened glass door to the office pool, letting the sound of the phones and office chatter fill the air. He watched Molly hop onto the chair at his desk, slapping the coloring book and crayons down. She looked back, watching him closely, and he smiled for her.

She took the reassurance with a nod and a grin of her own. Matt released a breath that gusted out in a heavy sigh. The poor kid. Her life had gone to shit right in front of her and she could still smile.

Matt couldn't do that when he had a bad day and his car broke down. Or, y'know, he started hearing the thoughts of everyone around him.

He rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on. If he really was reading minds, it was probably the first of many. Should just buy stock in Aspirin and offset some of the costs.

"Listen, I've gotta head back inside, Molly's waiting. If you need to, just call me at home tonight. If nothing goes down, it's just going to be a whole lot of waiting and wondering, and that bed is gonna feel pretty damn empty without you in it."

Mohinder chuckled. "All right. I'll talk to you later. Perhaps, then, you might tell me what's really bothering you."

Matt winced. "Sorry. Thought I was doing a better job covering than that."

"You always do think that," said Mohinder, amused. "You never cover as well as you think."

After rubbing the back of his neck, Matt held up one finger to Audrey. "It's not something I can really talk about over the phone. Some idiot with a baby monitor picks this one up and I'm gonna be feeling like a grade-a large doofus. I'll talk to you about it when you come home."

Mohinder was silent, taking the time, Matt knew, to digest the import of the words. He held his breath, wishing that this thing with him, whatever it was, worked over long distances. That he could just close his eyes, reach out, and put the whole thing right in Mohinder's head. Mohinder would know what to make of it.

"Let's just say, it's right up your alley and leave it there, okay?"

Now the silence between them took on an ominous note.

Just as Matt was starting to wonder if he'd said too much, Mohinder finally spoke. "You do realize, if you're trying to keep me in New York City, that is a _terrible_ way to do it. Now I'd like nothing better than to get on the first plane and fly out there."

"Yeah, I know," said Matt, sighing. "Guess part of me really doesn't want you to listen."

"I'll be home before you know it," said Mohinder, his voice soft and gentle. "Just keep telling yourself that and so will I. It might work."

"Yeah," said Matt. "And maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and know how to fly."

"Be careful," said Mohinder, amused. "It just might happen."

"Believe me, honey," drawled Matt, "you have _no_ idea."

-

Hanging up the phone, Mohinder closed his eyes. The conversation with Matt, as brief as it was, had done nothing to ease the loneliness. If anything, it had done nothing but increase it. He needed Matt with him and until he was, it wasn't going to change.

"Dammit." With the muttered comment, he turned away from the phone and went into the kitchen.

He started opening cupboards, looking for the tea, as the phone began to ring. He let the machine get it, finding the small box tucked in the corner of one cupboard. Distantly, he heard the sound of a recorded voice. Some advertisement. He ignored it, letting it play as he fixed himself a mug.

"You know, you should really remember to lock your door."

Mohinder jumped, the mug sloshing hot tea over his hand. "_Eden_." He turned around, finding her standing in the doorway with a paper bag in her hands and a sheepish smile on her face. "You might have knocked."

Laughing, she stepped into the room and put the bag on the counter. The enticing smell of food wafted up into his face and Mohinder found his stomach obediently growling. "I did. I don't think you heard me." She pointed at him. "And you didn't lock your door."

"I thought I had," said Mohinder. He shook his head. "I suppose I've been a little distracted."

Eden nodded. "I suppose." She started taking out white containers, the styrofoam squeaking as she held it. "I thought you probably forgot to eat too, so I brought something over. It's take out, unfortunately. I had the late shift today."

"You didn't have to do this," said Mohinder, but he was already reaching for a container. "But thank you."

She smiled. "I like doing it." Looking back at the desk, she shrugged. "I can't help him, but I can help you. Besides, someone needs to take care of you."

"So Matt tells me." Turning away, Mohinder started digging through the cupboards.

"Matt? Your boyfriend?"

"Yes, I suppose you could call him that," said Mohinder. Finding the plates after a few tries, he put them down. "Though, I admit, I feel a little ridiculous calling him that. We're hardly teenagers."

"Yeah, but it doesn't really matter, right?" asked Eden. "Whatever he is to you shouldn't matter to the rest of us." She opened the containers, watching him with a hesitant gaze. "Is that why you and your father -- "

"Not necessarily, but at times," said Mohinder. "It's not something that, culturally, is accepted in India, but my father -- " he shrugged, remembering his many arguments with his father. "My father had his own reasons for his disapproval." Evolutionary dead ends indeed.

"Most parents do," said Eden. "But the biggest one is fear."

Mohinder laughed. "Hardly. My father was never afraid. He believed a scientist should have a heart of stone, a philosophy he practiced to the letter." He recalled the argument with his father, when he'd been so resolutely shut out of his father's research.

_It's right up your alley._

Matt's odd comment of earlier came back to him and Mohinder frowned thoughtfully. He still couldn't quite puzzle out exactly what Matt had meant. There were any number of things, but – his gaze went to his father's research – one thing hit above all.

His father had come to New York City in search of his Patient Zero. What if Mohinder'd been sleeping next to him the entire time?

He shook his head. The idea was just – the irony of it. "Good god," he murmured, sotto voce. "It couldn't be that easy, could it?"

Eden looked at him, holding out a hand for a plate. "Did you say something?"

"Just thinking out loud," said Mohinder. "I apologize. Matt's in a particularly difficult place with his job. I'm worried about him." Which was the most major of minor understatements. "It's one of the unfortunate aspects of a life with a federal agent."

"Mmm, I wouldn't know," said Eden. Her smile was sheepish. "I've never been good with cops."

"Sounds interesting," said Mohinder. He filled his plate with food, eager to silence the rumbling protests of his stomach. "I suspect there's quite the story behind that."

"Mm, not much of one," said Eden. "Growing up was...tricky." She smiled. "I was a bit of a problem child." Something in the way she smiled said that he wasn't the only one in the room making understatements. She filled her plate, then put it aside long enough to pull herself up onto the counter.

"I know the feeling," said Mohinder. "Though, I imagine, I was far less skilled with it than you were. I was too busy trying to win my father's approval." Something that had always remained just out of his grasp. No matter the achievements, he'd never been able to win his father's pride. "Which, I'm sure, makes me somewhat of a failure in the rebellion department."

"Your dad loved you, y'know," said Eden, picking at her food. "I know it might not have seemed like it, but I could tell." She shrugged, looking up at him. "It's not easy to admit that kind of thing to your child. Admitting it to a stranger is actually a lot easier to do."

"Yes," said Mohinder. He thought of Matt and all the things that they struggled to say to each other, even now. "I suppose it is."

-

Molly preceded Matt into the house, ducking under his arm to race ahead just as soon as he opened the door. "Oh _wow_," announced the little girl, turning in a quick circle to take in the main room. "You live _here_."

"Supposedly," said Matt. "Some days, Mohinder would argue that one." He shed his coat, tossing it on a chair and heading back to the door. He pushed the deadbolt home and peered out the peephole. If he concentrated, and he didn't, he knew he'd probably hear the grumbling thoughts of the surveillance teams settling in for the night.

Poor bastards. He'd been there.

Turning away, he looked back at the wide-eyed Molly. "You can move you know."

She smiled, shifting from one foot to another. "It's so amazing. I'm afraid I'll break something. It's all so -- " Molly shrugged. "My Mom would say just sit on the couch and don't touch anything."

Matt laughed. "Well, any other house and I'd say she's right, but not this time. Half the stuff in here's been broken at least once." He didn't say why. Explaining the tunnel vision he and Mohinder got when sex was involved – really not a conversation he wanted to be having with a ten-year-old. "Sometimes twice."

Molly put her bag on the sofa, smiling at him. "You're kind of a klutz, huh?"

"Oh yeah," said Matt, tugging off his tie. "Mohinder still says it was a miracle I didn't cut off a finger when we were fixing this place up." Which, given Mohinder's penchant for tank tops on hot summer days, had damn near happened at least twice. "So basically, don't worry about breaking anything. Mohinder wouldn't worry and God knows I won't." Tugging off his tie, he headed past her into the small kitchen. "Should've seen it when we first bought the place."

"It was a mess, huh?" asked Molly, trailing after him.

"That's being nice," said Matt. "The last owner hadn't lived here in twenty years. She just didn't want to sell." He opened the refrigerator; stale sandwiches from the vending machine at work wasn't much of a meal. He cast a glance at the contents of the refrigerator and smiled wryly. Awesome. They needed to go grocery shopping and Matt sucked at doing the shopping alone. "We spent a week just cleaning."

"Yuck."

"Double yuck," said Matt. He pulled his head out of the fridge, looking back at her. "Turkey or chicken?"

Molly made a face. "No ham?"

He shook his head. "I can pick up some at the store tomorrow." Along with just about everything else. The shopping list was pinned to the cork board on the wall, scrawled out in Mohinder's messy hand.

She smiled. "Chicken's good."

He nodded and grabbed the rest of the fixings. "You can put your stuff in the bedroom later. It's right next door to mine, so if anything goes wrong -- "

"You'll hear it," said Molly, tapping the side of her head. She sat down at the kitchen table, tucking one leg beneath the other as she kicked absently. "You'll probably know before I do. It's why I'm safer here."

"Molly, I can't -- " Matt stopped, Molly's _Oh yes you can_ drowning out what he'd been about to say. "Okay," he admitted. "I _might_ have heard that." Putting the food on the counter, he leaned against it. "What the hell is happening to me?"

"The same thing as us," said Molly. She hopped up, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of him. "It's why Sylar killed my Mom and Dad. They could do stuff too." She looked up at him. "It's why he wants to kill me."

"And me?"

"If he knows about you, yup," Molly nodded. "He said we didn't deserve what we had."

Matt scowled. "Just goes to show, the man's an idiot." He bent down, meeting her eyes. "We're gonna find him, Molly. Audrey and I are going to find him and make sure that he's not going to do this to anybody else."

She hugged him, then stepped back. Her smile was sad, and knowing. He heard the echo of a scream ring faintly through his mind. He looked at Molly, eyes narrowing as he chased after the sound. His reward was, for just a moment, a sharp image, clear and hard in his mind. _Mom_. Not his, but hers. Matt breathed in slowly, easing over the pain of the memory. Living with the sight of your mother being --

He shook his head. Fuck.

"See?" asked Molly. "He'll do it again. He can't stop. Not until he's found all of us worth finding and taken what they have." She stepped back, her eyes sad and knowing. "He'd kill you too. He can't read minds and he'd like to."

Her matter-of-fact words sent a shiver of dread racing down Matt's spine. It had to be some kind of post-traumatic stress. No kid was this calm about the man that murdered their parents. Not when they _witnessed_ it.

"What kind of powers did your parents have?"

Molly shrugged. "My Dad could make things freeze." She looked away from him, but Matt felt the deep wave of pain well up and gritted his teeth. Fuck, he hated this. He'd always hated dealing with victims, never able to look them in the eye and face his own helplessness. He couldn't help their loved ones, couldn't bring them back, he was a glorified firefighter. Putting out the fire after the damage had already been done. "My Mom..." She smiled. "My Mom could feel what you felt. She didn't like it much."

"Can't blame her," said Matt. "It's no fun." Whatever was happening with him, he wouldn't put a name to it just yet, a few fleeting flashes was enough. He didn't want to know.

"Sylar didn't want it," said Molly. "It's why -- "

Why he'd just killed her. The words hung heavy and unspoken in the air. Matt flinched anyway. Fuck, she shouldn't have to do this. She shouldn't be discussing her mother's murder. She should – she should be at home. With her family. Fuck. He hated this.

Lost and feeling Mohinder's absence like a physical ache, he started to make a sandwich. He had to get the conversation moving and off the subject. They were treading on dangerous ground and he didn't want to be the one trying to catch her when it fell out from under them.

"He can't find the others," said Molly, before he could say anything. She took the bread and reached for the dressing.

"The others?" asked Matt.

"Uh huh." Molly licked her finger, grinning when he made a face. It was a polite grin, strained around the edges, and more for his benefit than any true pleasure on her part. Still, she'd made the effort and he wasn't going to complain. "The others like us. People with powers."

"Oh, see, I knew this was going to turn into an X-Men thing," said Matt. "It always comes back to comic books."

Molly looked up. "You're kind of a goof, huh?"

"Oh, there's no kind of about it," assured Matt. "I surrendered to my goofdom many, many years ago. It's all right, though, Mohinder swears that the fact I get to be bad ass when I go to work makes up for it."

"He's just trying to be polite," said Molly.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that one," said Matt. "He does that sort of thing a lot."

Molly passed him the plate with the bread, all primed and ready for sandwiching. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you?"

"Yeah," said Matt. "How am I doing?"

"Not bad," said Molly. "But it's not going away, Matt. They're still gone and Sylar -- " Sylar was still out there. "It's okay. You don't have to pretend everything's okay."

Matt pushed the plate away and turned to face her, leaning against the cupboards. If Molly wanted to talk about it, he wasn't going to stop her. Better get it out now. "I'm not pretending anything, Molly, but you don't have to think about it all the time."

"I can't not," confessed Molly. She folded her arms tight across her chest and looked at the floor. "He's always in there. Yelling. I can't stop thinking about it." She sighed deeply. "He's going to hurt a lot of people, just like he hurt my Mom and Dad. Just like he wanted to hurt _me_. How do I forget that?"

Matt groaned, biting back the 'fuck' that threatened to burst out. He didn't know what to say. This? This was Mohinder's thing. He'd know what to say. He was sure of it. "It's not about forgetting, Mol." He reached out, tugging her into a hug. "It's about – it's about just getting it out of your head for a while. Your parents wouldn't want you obsessing like this."

She sniffled, pressing her face into his shirt. _They don't want anything. They're gone._

Catching the stray thought, he followed it back into her mind, hearing the echoes of a voice raging through her thoughts. Sylar. He didn't try to shut it out, instead he tried to hear more. They had nothing on Sylar right now. Even knowing the sound of his voice would be an improvement.

Though it would be hell trying to explain it to Audrey.

Matt bit his lip, looking at the picture of himself and Mohinder that sat on the windowsill, wishing Mohinder could help. He breathed deep, trying to think of the right thing to say. "It doesn't matter where they are, they're your parents. They'll always want the best for you and, right now, that's you happy. That might not happen for a while, but it will happen." He nudged Molly backward, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "And it doesn't have a damn thing to do with Sylar."

She sniffled. "You're not supposed to say that word."

"Yeah, I'm not," said Matt, "But I won't tell if you won't."

She nodded, tears slipping silently down to replace the ones he'd wiped away. "Okay." She looked at the sandwich, half made, sitting on the counter. "You're going to stop him, right?"

"Yeah," said Matt. "I'm gonna try."

She slipped from beneath his hands, pulling the plate toward her. "I wanna help."

"Molly." Matt frowned. "You can't help. It's too dangerous."

"It's not like we have a choice!" insisted Molly. "He's gonna come after me anyway." She stopped, the thought apparently striking home. He watched her determination falter, fear creeping in around the edges of her eyes. "He won't stop."

"Why?" asked Matt. He doubted she'd considered the fact she was a witness yet. This was something else.

Molly looked up at him. "I can find people."

"Find people?"

"Uh huh," said Molly, nodding. "Doesn't matter where they are. If I need to, I just think of them and I know where they are." She smiled, proud. "I can even point it out on a map."

FUCK. Fuck, fuck, fuckity _fuck_. If Molly really could do that? If she really could just close her eyes and find _anyone_, no matter where they were? Fuck. Sylar could use that.

Molly's expression shifted from fear to hope. "That's why you've gotta let me help. He can't find them if we get there first."

"Even if we could find them -- " and Matt still wasn't sure anyone existed to be found " -- they'd never believe us."

"Yes, they would!" protested Molly. "They're gonna know about their own abilities, plus you can read their minds and prove it to them. They'd have to believe us then!"

"They'd have to listen to us first," said Matt. "A man and a little girl walk up to them and start talking about superpowers? They'd throw us out on our ear." He hesitated, then shook his head. "No, _me_ they would throw out. You they'd just ask politely."

Molly rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You're an FBI agent, Matt. They'd have to listen to you. Besides, they can't throw you out. That's like a felony."

"This is gonna come as a shock," said Matt, "but most people probably wouldn't care."

"They've gotta care," said Molly, determined. "They've gotta care and they've gotta believe us." _We can't let this happen to anybody else._

Matt was expecting it, had been waiting for it since the moment they'd met, but still. When Molly started to cry, the sight of it broke his heart. He tugged her into a hug and sat there, on the kitchen floor with her, letting her cry it out.

With it all said, and done, it was the only thing he could think to do.

-

He dreamt of Mohinder. It wasn't really a surprise. If Matt had thought about it before going to bed, he might have even expected it. If ever there was ever a situation tailor made for it, this was it. Talking with Molly, consoling Molly, tucking her into the spare bed before crawling into his own, all the while with the case on his mind and the reassurance of Mohinder's presence nowhere to be found, it was almost a given.

Not that Matt was complaining. A dream version of Mohinder was better than nothing at all. He smiled and pulled Mohinder closer. "I missed you," he said, sighing as Mohinder pressed down. In comparison to him, Mohinder was slender, almost scrawny, but still made a solid weight as he settled closer. Matt shifted, smiling, his hands skimming the bare expanse of Mohinder's back.

Mohinder smiled, his teeth a quick flash of white in the dark room. "And I missed you." His mouth brushed Matt's, a quick reacquainting, tasting him, before they settled in for a long, more intense kiss.

Before Mohinder, Matt hadn't been a huge fan of kissing. Oh, he could cuddle with the best of them, but kissing had never held that big an appeal. The room was quiet, save for the sound of traffic on the street below. It was louder than Matt remembered. Busier. It was enough of a change that he opened his eyes, pulling his mouth away from Mohinder's as he turned his head to look.

Even in the dark of night, it was easy to tell the room he was in was not the one he went to sleep in. He frowned, his hands coming to a stop on Mohinder's lower back. "Where am I?"

"Brooklyn," said Mohinder, frowning himself. "This is my father's apartment."

"I'm dreaming," said Matt. "This is some kind of dream, but it doesn't _feel_ like one." He looked at Mohinder, reaching up to slide a hand through those curls. They felt silky soft against his skin, hairs skimming over his fingers as he slowed his touch.

He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch of Matt's hand. If Matt loved touching Mohinder's hair, then Mohinder absolutely adored it being touched. Matt would have made the usual comparisons, but really, there'd been enough genetic shenanigans for one day.

Fuck.

"Obviously, it's a dream," said Mohinder, dutifully logical as usual. He shifted closer to Matt, one bare leg sliding across Matt's. His body pressed against Matt's side. A little squirming and Mohinder's cock began to harden. Oh yeah, he'd had _those_ kinds of dreams before, but not like this...

He groaned. "Are you sure about that? This? Really does _feels_ real." Letting his fingers slide down to brush the curve of Mohinder's cheek, he hesitated. "I needed to talk to you and -- " he shook his head. "Maybe I made this happen somehow. Maybe we really _are_ talking."

"That's impossible, Matthew," said Mohinder. "You're implying that, somehow, our minds made contact across a distance -- "

"Yeah, I know. I know that it sounds insane, Mohinder, but that's what I was trying to tell you. Stuff started happening to me over the past few days." Longer if he was honest with himself. "Okay, longer. Before, it was just sensations, random stupid thoughts popping into my head, but since you left? It got worse. Stronger. _Whatever_. All I know is I've been hearing things."

Mohinder sat up, his bare shoulders shining in the streetlight. He shifted, bringing one leg up to fold beneath himself. A frown of confusion touched his face as he looked at Matt. Matt wasn't sure if he dared try and read his thoughts or not. He wasn't even sure that he _could_. Not here. If he was creating this, whatever it was, then maybe he couldn't spare the energy to try.

"God, I really have to get a handle on this." Sitting up too, Matt rubbed his forehead. "And before you ask, no I'm not hearing voices. At least, not _those_ kinds of voices." He sighed. "I told you this was right up your alley."

"You think that -- " Mohinder's eyes widened. "You believe that you've developed some sort of telepathic ability?"

"Pretty much," said Matt. "I tried ignoring it, but I keep hearing things. The things people are thinking." He scowled.l "Hell, right now, I could probably hear the guys outside in the cars if I wanted." Or Molly just beyond his bedroom, sound asleep in the guest room. "I wish to hell I knew what was causing it, but it's pretty damn hard to pretend it isn't happening. It's how I found Molly. She was hiding in this closet thing and I heard her _thinking_."

Mohinder shifted onto his stomach, excitement filling his eyes. "Matt. You aren't kidding me, are you? You're completely serious?"

"One hundred percent." Matt reached out, lacing his fingers together with Mohinder's. "I figured out Sylar's motive. I know why he's doing this. There are more of us. A lot more. We thought the insane crime scenes were Sylar's way of sending some kind of message, the guys in Investigative Support have been banging their heads against it for weeks, but we were wrong."

Mohinder looked at him, the excitement fading into concern. "He was trying out new abilities."

"Yeah," said Matt. "If we're right, he's been hunting people like me and Molly for their abilities. I don't know how it works yet, I don't know how he takes them, but if we're right -- "

"You are in far more danger than we ever realized." Mohinder leaned over, kissing Matt. His gentle fingers traced the sides of Matt's face as he pulled back, staring into Matt's eyes. "Matthew, I remember your descriptions of those crime scenes. If he's truly managed to amass that much power -- "

"I'll be okay," promised Matt, "but first thing tomorrow? Thayer, Audrey, and I are gonna have one _hell_ of a chat."

Mohinder nodded, opening his mouth to say more. He didn't get the chance.


	5. Chapter 5

It was quiet.

Matt snapped awake, already reaching for his gun. For a moment, he was puzzled. Why was _silence_ freaking him out, but when he listened for Molly, he understood. The silence was deafening. He couldn't hear _anyone_; not Molly, not the guys outside, not the neighbors across the street with the screaming three year old who didn't quit unless you sang show tunes. Nobody. He was surrounded by complete and total silence.

_Fuck_.

Throwing back the covers, Matt got up. There was no way in hell that he'd lost it, he wasn't that lucky. So, if he hadn't lost it, and everyone was still breathing, then something was getting in the way. "All right, Parkman," he muttered, "time to figure out how the fuck this works." If he was, god help him, telepathic, then it was about fucking time to make it work.

He made his way to the door and eased it open. The door across from his was closed. Not too long ago, he'd closed it on a sleeping Molly, but now it felt empty. Matt stopped. No. Not empty. There was something in the way. A void pressing in around him.

All on one level, the house didn't offer many places to hide. If someone was in the house, then they were close.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," hummed Matt beneath his breath. He stepped back until he felt the edge of the sidetable that dominated the wall between the bedrooms. With his back secure, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. With the curtains draw, the hallway was awash with shadow. No one in sight. At least, no one that he could see.

He pushed, trying to find his way through the void. Somewhere, on the other side of it, Molly was asleep, completely oblivious to the danger that she was in. The thought of that sent adrenaline surging through him and his mind pushed the last few steps.

It was just a flash, the briefest of moments, but his mind touched hers. She was asleep, but it felt wrong. Hazy.

"Drugged."

He closed the distance in two quick steps, grabbing the doorknob. Finding it locked, he threw his weight against it. The sound of scuffled footsteps on the other side of the door sent him into a panic. He slammed against the door, his hand coming up to the radio in his ear as he hollered for assistance.

Outside, the neighborhood exploded into a beehive of activity. Agents descended on the house from all directions. Matt barely noticed. Bursting into the room, he came face to face with two men.

"Oh, now, Agent Parkman, this is most unfortunate," said one. His glasses glinted in the moonlight, obscuring his eyes. Matt didn't need his newfound powers to know he was the real threat. Not the quiet man holding Molly in his arms. "You weren't supposed to wake up."

"I never was very good at living up to expectations." Matt looked from Glasses to his accomplice. "Telling you that you're surrounded would be beside the point, wouldn't it?"

"Hmm, largely," said Glasses. "I'm afraid, as cliched as this sounds, this isn't what it looks like."

"Now that I find hard to believe," said Matt. "Mom always said, if it looks like a felony, and it acts like a felony, well -- " he shrugged. "How about we start with you putting Molly down? Preferably on her bed, and then you both line up against the wall like good little criminals."

"This is pointless," said Glasses, but gestured to his companion anyway. "You don't understand the complexities of the situation."

Matt kept the gun on him as the accomplice put Molly down, covering her with a blanket, before backing away. "I don't have to understand the complexities of the situation. I have to protect that little girl and that's all I have to do."

"Is it?" asked Glasses. "I wonder what your Doctor Suresh would say about that." His movements casual, he walked around the bed. Matt stayed at a distance, eyes and gun level on them both. "Considering everything that's at stake, I doubt he would agree with you."

"PARKMAN?"

Audrey's voice intruded into the conversation and Matt sighed in relief. "In here!" Turning back to their suspects, he frowned. "You're right, I don't know what's going on here, or how you know about Mohinder, or whatever the hell else that you're plugged into, but we're going to find out. One way, or the other."

Glasses smiled, faint and hard. "You may find that more difficult than you think."

"We'll see," said Matt. "You're under arrest."

-

Matt was standing outside the interrogation room when Thayer came to a stop beside him. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable scathing comment, but was surprised instead. Shaking her head, Thayer looked over. "Gotta hand it to you, Parkman, you upset one hell of a hornet's nest this time."

"I take it HRG's threats are legit?" asked Matt.

She looked at him. "HRG?"

"Yeah," said Audrey, coming to a stop beside them. She held out a cup of coffee to Matt, but looked at Thayer. "Horn-rimmed Glasses. HRG." She shrugged. "Sounded better than John Doe."

"He's still refusing to talk?"

"Not a word beyond a few pithy comments," said Matt. He took a cautious sip of the coffee. "Not bad, Audrey. You keep this up, you might actually make a cup that doesn't taste like toxic waste."

Audrey smirked. "At least my coffee doesn't make wallpaper peel."

Thayer rolled her eyes. "And again, I marvel that you two aren't married." She nodded at the man on the other side of the glass. "Officially, he's Noah Bennet of Odessa, Texas. Works for an outfit called Primatech Paper."

"Huh, would explain his critique of our notebooks," mused Matt. "I'm guessing that unofficially, he's just a little more than that?"

"That's what I'm thinking," said Thayer. "We were under a hell of a lot of pressure about Sylar. Half a dozen phone calls in a week, demanding progress reports. Since you two busted Mr. Bennet and his associate? I've gotten one."

"People are going out of their way not to be connected to this guy," said Matt. "For a guy who sells paper, that's interesting."

"That's one word for it," agreed Thayer. She turned, looking at him. "I'm not going to tell you how to handle this -- "

_That'd be a first_, thought Audrey. Unprepared for the unexpected intrusion, Matt coughed to hide the snicker.

Thayer shot them both a suspicious look, but kept talking, " -- obviously, the guy is not Sylar. That means he's not a priority."

"You want us to cut him _loose_?" Audrey's eyebrows rose. "All due respect, are you insane? We caught them in the middle of the kidnapping of a _federal witness_."

"I'm not saying that," said Thayer, holding up a hand. "I'm saying that it might be a good idea to kick it to one of the other agents in the office and let them deal with it. You two have enough on your hands with Sylar."

She was right, of course. Matt didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't argue either. They had more than enough on their hands with Sylar, his eight confirmed kills, and the half dozen suspected others. Whatever the fuck was going on with Bennet and the abduction attempt, it was not Matt's problem

At least, not officially.

He scowled, balling the hand not holding the coffee into a fist. "Gimme a minute with him and make sure the other guy is nowhere around."

"Why?" asked Audrey, brow furrowing in a confused frown. "What's he got to do with anything?"

Matt looked at her, hearing the scattered thought whispering through her mind. "Let's just say, I have a theory."

Both Audrey and Thayer gave him identical smirks of amusement, but Thayer waved him forward anyway, nodding at him. "All right, whatever you want. Just wrap it up fast. I want to take advantage of our temporary reprieve. By the time the higher ups decide it's safe to start ringing my phone off the hook, I want something concrete to give them. Preferably Sylar's head on a pike."

Doing an about face, she stalked off down the corridor, gesturing at another agent.

"You know, some days, she's almost lovable," said Matt, a small grin playing about his lips.

"Sure," said Audrey. "Just like Jaws, nothing but cute and cuddly." Looking back at him, she took a step closer. "Parkman, are you okay? You've been acting kinda weird. I'd say it was because Mohinder was gone, but he's traveled before and you haven't -- " she shrugged. "Well, you haven't gone off the deep end."

Matt laughed. "Off the deep end?"

"You know what I mean," said Audrey. "You've just been acting off." She pushed a smirk to the surface, even though he could sense the worried thoughts lurking behind it. "Considering my ass is on the line with this investigation -- "

He sighed. "I just – It's gonna sound fucking weird, okay? You won't believe it. _I_ barely do."

Audrey rolled her eyes. "I barely believe half you say. That's nothing new."

He breathed out, weighing the risk against their history. They'd been partners for years. Fuck, Audrey had watched him meet, fall for, and freak out about, Mohinder. She knew them better than most anybody.

He sucked in a breath, folding his arms. "Remember how Mohinder's always talking about evolutionary leaps?"

Audrey looked confused, but nodded. "Yeah."

Matt shrugged. "I think I just leapt off a cliff." At her bewildered look, he smiled. "I'll tell you later."

-

"Ah, you again," said HRG – Bennet – as Matt opened the door. "I suppose it's too much to hope that coffee is for me."

"Sorry," said Matt. "Guess my partner forgot all about you."

"Of course she did," said Bennet, folding his arms. "Did she also forget about my lawyer?"

"No, that she remembered," said Matt, sitting down. He put his coffee on the table and did his best to relax in the uncomfortable chair. He hated these interrogation rooms. The sterile white of the walls and floor always left him feeling like he was in a mental ward. Which, considering his current state, was a just a little too unnerving to be contemplating. "He's on the way."

"So, you're just here to keep me company?" asked Bennet. "How nice of you."

"Nice has nothing to do with it," said Matt. "I just wanted a chance to talk without your friend hanging about." He smiled. "He is the reason I couldn't hear a damn thing last night, wasn't he?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," said Bennet. _Don't do this, Parkman_.

The thought, so clear and sharp in his head, surprised Matt. He sat up straight, eyes locked with Bennet. "Did -- " At Bennet's headshake, he stopped and then remembered his partner on the other side of the glass, not to mention the surveillance camera recording their every word. "People are dying," said Matt, leaning forward. "And you know why. Considering what you had access to about me -- "

_Meaning I know about your abilities? Yes. Yours, Molly's, and the abilities of a lot of others. You have no idea what you've landed in the middle of._

"No kidding," muttered Matt. He rubbed his forehead. "Look, you know something about Sylar. I'm willing to bet you know who the guy is and where I can find him."

_Unfortunately not._ "Unfortunately, not. To be honest, I don't even know who Sylar is," said Bennet. _We've been searching for him as well. You'd do best to leave it to us. Mr. Sylar is a threat on the highest order and one you aren't prepared to deal with._

Matt clenched his fist, resisting the urge to slam it on the table. Five minutes alone with the guy. Just five minutes without anyone watching. That's all he needed. That or better command of this thing he could figure out what the fuck Bennet wasn't telling him.

Refocusing, he leaned forward. "Where were you taking Molly?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," said Bennet, a bland expression on his face. "And, might I remind you, Agent Parkman, that question is off limits until my attorney arrives."

"Never hurts to ask," said Matt. He listened intently, trying to hear what Bennet was thinking, but found himself confronted with the face of a teenage girl. _I can't help you, Parkman. I have my own priorities to deal with and what we're up against is bigger than one little girl._ "Mr. Bennet, you were caught trying to kidnap a federal witness. You do realize that you're in a world of trouble, right?"

Bennet raised one eyebrow. _Do you? Take Molly and run._

A light knock on the window from Audrey and Matt turned around. "I think your lawyer's here."

_Run, Parkman. If you want to protect that little girl. Take her and run._

Matt closed the door on Bennet's parting thought.

-

"Did you get what you wanted?" asked Audrey, falling into step with him as a slim blonde passed. Bennet's lawyer, Matt assumed, though she barely looked old enough to be out of high school.

Not that he could tell. Half the rookies that came out of Quantico these days didn't look old enough to shave.

"No," said Matt, "but I got enough."

"How? You barely said two words to each other." Tugging on his arm, Audrey turned him to face her. "Hi, Parkman, remember me? Your partner? This is where you tell me what the fuck is going on and why you're talking about jumping off cliffs."

Matt looked over his shoulder, watching agents and personnel bustle from one room to another. "Not here." He watched the laywer stop, looking back at him with knowing eyes. "We don't want people overhearing."

He headed for the stairwell, Audrey close at hand. "This is going to be one of those stories, isn't it, Matt?"

Matt held the door open for her, grinning at the annoyed look she gave him. He was hellbent on being nice and she was hellbent on giving him shit about it. "No, it's going to be the mother of all stories."

Letting the door swing shut behind him, he leaned up against it. The last thing they wanted was unfortunate interruptions. "You're not going to believe it."

"It's you," said Audrey, sitting on the step. "I already don't believe it."

"Fine." Matt took a breath and decided to make the plunge. She deserved to know. She was his partner. His partner and his friend and he didn't have a whole lot of those. "Not that long ago, things started to change."

He looked at Audrey, wondering how the hell someone admitted something like this. "You're going to think I'm insane."

She grinned. "Like the ship hasn't already sailed on that one."

"Fuck off." Matt's response was automatic, making him laugh. "It's just – I barely believe it, Audrey. How the hell am I supposed to convince you?"

"You could start by saying it," said Audrey. "Quit dancing around, man up, and talk already."

"Fine." Matt hesitated for a moment, then blurted, "I can read minds. I don't know what's causing it, but I'm serious. Not that long ago, I started hearing things. People. That cop at the crime scene? When he was ready to puke? I got all the details. In my head. Molly? I _heard_ her. It's how I found her as quickly as I did. I just followed the thoughts back to their source."

Audrey sat up. _Oh god, he's lost it._ "Matt -- "

"No, I haven't lost it, Audrey," snapped Matt, cutting her off. "I wish to God that I was crazy, but I'm not. See, the thing is, that I'm not alone. I didn't realize that until I met Molly, but there are people out there and -- " He laughed, shaking his head. "We've been chasing one of them."

"Sylar?"

"Sylar." Matt pushed away from the door and sat next to her. "Molly figured it out when I was talking to her. She heard Sylar going on about it when she was in the closet. He's hunting people with powers. People like me. He hunts them down, he kills them, and he takes their powers."

Working a hand through her hair, Audrey stared at the wall. "This is fucking insane, Matt."

"Yeah, well, you can't say I didn't warn you." Matt shrugged. "When I was in there with Bennet? We were talking, you just couldn't hear it. Well, Bennet was talking, I was listening and trying to read past him. I'm guessing his partner's got some kind of power himself and I'd lay money that it's the ability to block mine."

"That's why you wanted him moved." Audrey nodded. "Get him out of range -- "

"-- and see if I could get anything out of Bennet's head. Yeah, that's it exactly."

"And did you?"

"Not much. Bennet's not the stray thought kind of guy, but I got one thing. He knows about me, he knows about Molly, and he knows a hell of a lot more than we do about Sylar." Matt looked at Audrey, somber. "He told me to take Molly and run. Sylar's not going to stop coming after her."

"Well, we already knew that," said Audrey. "She's his only witness."

"And she has something he _really_ wants," said Matt. "Molly's ability? Severely scary."

"What, she's like Firestarter or something?" asked Audrey.

"Nope. She can find you. That's the way she described it anyway. If she thinks about you, she knows where you are. Exactly where you are, right down to the street address. All she needs is a map and she can point it out."

"Fuck. With that -- "

"Yeah," said Matt. "Sylar could find anybody, anywhere, anytime. The body count he'd have then?"

Audrey visibly shivered. "Not something I'm in a hurry to think about, Parkman. Thanks."

"Then you might want want to try stopping," said Matt. He smiled. "I can hear you, remember?"

Her eyes widened almost comically. "Oh _fuck_."

Laughing, Matt held up a hand. "Relax, I don't hear _everything_. Right now, I don't really have a handle on things. I wouldn't go near a shopping mall right now if you paid me. Too many people and way too many chances for things to go bad."

"Yeah, I can see where avoiding crowds might be a good plan," said Audrey. "The thing that's bugging me is how the fuck Bennet knows all this stuff. You said he knew about you. _You_ barely know about you, so how'd he find out?"

"I don't know," said Matt, "but Thayer said people are going out of their way not to be connected to him."

"Which means there's someone really big that they don't want to piss off." Audrey nodded. "So, maybe, that somebody knows how to track people like you."

"Maybe. Sylar found out about us right? Someone out there had to know something and that someone -- " Matt stopped. "Oh _fuck_." The faint tendril of panic that he'd latched onto expanded in his head, blossoming into an explosion of terrified thoughts.

He was off the step, gun drawn, and out the door before he could fight his way clear of the chaos. Audrey was behind him, gun in hand, her hand on his shoulder. "Matt?"

"He's here."


	6. Chapter 6

Mohinder woke up. He lay on the couch for a moment, staring at the ceiling and the water stains littering it as his mind tried to process his dream. He'd had peculiar ones in the past, everyone had, but this?

"Matt developing telepathy?" he shook his head. "It's impossible." And yet --

Sitting up, Mohinder rubbed his back where a stray spring had jabbed him. The idea of Matt having developed telepathy seemed, on the whole, quite ludicrous, but taking his father's research into consideration changed that considerably. He got up, shuffling from the small living room to the kitchen.

He needed tea. Lots of tea. He went through the motions of making it on autopilot, his mind focused on the question at hand. He wished his father was alive. There was no one better that he could discuss it with. He hadn't seen Eden since her impromptu visit with dinner the previous day. He'd knocked on her door that evening, wanting to return her generosity with dessert, but no one had answered.

He doubted that she'd be at home now. She mentioned preferring to work the early shift at the store, so it was likely she was at work. Not that it mattered. He could hardly discuss this with her, not without endangering her, Matt, and Molly alike.

That was the very last thing he wanted to do, to any of them. Sighing, Mohinder reached into the cupboard, feeling about for the can of tea. What came out was a brand that he and his father both preferred.

Reaching into the can for one of the tiny bags, Mohinder stopped when his fingers brushed something which was most certainly not tea. He put the can down and pulled it out, turning the flash drive over in his hands.

"Oh my god," he said. His eyes went to the computer on the desk. Clutching the flash drive in his hand, Mohinder abandoned the tea and went for the laptop. Already booted up and waiting, it took the few seconds required to plug it in and make the connection before Mohinder had his answer.

He watched in awe as the computer opened the flash drive and a cascade of numbers streamed their way across the screen. At first, the sequence made no sense, but then Mohinder recognized patterns.

"You did it," he breathed. "You found a way to track them." Reaching out, Mohinder touched the screen of his laptop and the numbers racing across it. "The question is, why hide this?" He looked back at the kitchen. If no one knew that his father had made the discovery, then why had his father gone through such lengths to hide it? Erasing it from his computer, hiding the only copy – he hoped – in a tea can on a flash drive. His father had not been a man given to subterfuge, and yet --

Mohinder felt a chill and thought of Matt. If he ran this algorithm, would he find Matt's name among its answers?

Shutting down the program, he pulled the flash drive from the computer as a more terrible thought occurred to him.

Had this been why his father had died?

-

Matt and Audrey ran into chaos. The lights in the hallway flickered off and on randomly as they fought their way through the panicked people. Matt glanced at a few familiar faces, recognizing the support staff, heading for the exits. They were trained to deal with emergencies, following that training now, but he could hear the terrified thoughts behind the equally terrified faces and some of them --

He looked back at Audrey, shouting to be heard over the babble of voices. "_Definitely_ Sylar."

Audrey's reply was a growled, _Fuck_.

He almost laughed, except a terrified _MATT_ tore through his head and sucked the breath out of him. "Molly."

Of course.

He pushed through the crowd with renewed determination, knocking people aside as he tried to get to the room where Molly waited. When he rounded the corner, slipping into the side corridor where she was being kept, he came to a stop as he locked eyes with a dark-eyed young man, looking out at him from beneath a black ball cap.

Shit. He was just a kid. It didn't fit. Matt didn't doubt it was Sylar, the power resonating off of him said as much, but somehow, he'd thought the guy would be older.

Sylar smiled, maybe grimaced, and Matt felt himself go rigid. Oh, _fuck_.

Clutched against his side, kicking for all she was worth, Molly screamed as tears tracked their way down her cheeks. "MATT! NO!"

_Mine_, the unfamiliar voice, low and dangerous, snaked its way through Matt's thoughts. He would have shuddered, but such a movement seemed beyond him even now. Invisible hands clamped around his like a vice. Matt lashed out instinctively, his mind flailing at Sylar's, but he was too new. Too inexperienced. He didn't know what to do.

Sylar's grin shifted slightly, becoming one of discovery and then disappointment. "Pity," he said. "I think I'd like telepathy, but -- " He tipped his head to one side, his free hand coming up to flick gently in Matt's direction.

Oh god, no. He fought it, but Matt couldn't stop the hand holding his gun from rising. When it turned toward himself, he panicked, but couldn't move. Try as he might, there was nothing that Matt could do to stop it.

He looked at Molly, reaching out desperately. He didn't know if it would work, he didn't know if she could hear him, but he wanted to say it anyway, _I'm sorry. Don't look. Just - please. Don't._

Sobbing, Molly kicked at Sylar harder. When that failed, she shifted in his arms, violently twisting until she could reach his hand. As Matt watched, she sank her teeth into his hand. Hard.

"FUCK!" yelled Sylar. For a moment, his hold on them both lessened. Just for a moment, but it was all Molly needed. She hurled herself out of his arms and at Matt, wrapping her arms around his body. For his part, Matt threw himself backward, letting his gun slide out of his grip and skitter around the corner.

When his back hit the floor and they slid across the linoleum, Matt saw Audrey fight her way clear of the last group. "SHOOT!"

She didn't hesitate. She slid into a shooting stance and, as soon as Sylar came into view, opened fire.

The bullets appeared to hit him dead on, center of mass, and he stumbled backward. Before Audrey could fire again, the gun was ripped from her hands, flying down the hallway. Sylar didn't wait for it to land. Holding his chest, he stumbled backward and into the stairwell. Gone.

"AFTER HIM!" Spinning, Audrey waved agents forward, sending them down the hall in pursuit. "He won't get far," she decided. "You two okay?"

Matt pulled himself upright, leaning against the wall with Molly in his arms. "No." He cuddled the little girl closer as he looked at his partner. "We will be, though."

"Do you see now?" asked Bennet. The man stood a few feet away, his 'lawyer' at his side. "You see what we're up against?" _You can't stop him, Parkman, and he's not dead. He'll be back._

"I know," said Matt. He looked at Molly and thought of Mohinder. "I know."

-

"This is highly unorthodox," said Thayer.

"Yeah, but it's the only way we can protect her and you know it," said Matt. And they both did. "Tell the brass whatever you have to, but if they want a live witness, we can't stay here and I'm not just worried about Sylar anymore. Whoever Bennet answers too, they wanted Molly for a reason and I'm not comfortable giving them a second shot at her." Looking over his shoulder, Matt waved Molly toward the car. Clutching her stuffed moose, Molly nodded and hopped inside. "We'll check in when we can."

"Be careful," said Audrey. "I'm guessing they can track you."

"I wouldn't be surprised," said Matt. He waited for Thayer to back off before adding. "I'm pretty sure Bennet knows more about Sylar than he said. I'm going to try and find out more. Promise me that you won't try and go after Sylar on your own."

She grinned, holding up three fingers. "Scouts honor." With a sigh, she let the grin fade. "After what I saw last night – we are so fucked, Parkman."

"Maybe; maybe not." Matt tipped his head in Molly's direction. "We've got an ace in the hole, remember? Somewhere out there has got to be someone powerful enough to stop this guy." He thought about Mohinder. "And maybe I know someone else who can help me and Molly figure out who to look for."

Audrey's smile returned. "Give Mohinder my love."

"Not until I give him mine first," smirked Matt. He glanced at Thayer. Their superior took the hint, turning her back to leave the parking garage. With that, Matt bent and gave Audrey a quick hug. "Watch your back, huh?"

"Yeah, just as long as you watch _yours_," said Audrey, uncomfortable with the conversation. They never were very good at this stuff. "You know I hate road trips and if I have to take one to save your ass -- "

"I'll never hear the end of it," agreed Matt. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"MATT!" called Molly. "C'mon, we're gonna hit rush hour!"

"Great," said Matt. "Backseat driver."

Audrey grinned. "Hey, consider it good practice. You and Mohinder aren't getting any younger -- "

"Oh, no you don't," said Matt. "You are not going there."

Her grin widened. "Nope, you are." Audrey gave him a shove toward the car. "Get moving, Parkman. You're supposed to be running here."

Matt headed toward the car, but not content to let her have the last word, he turned at the last minute to flip her off.

_In your dreams, Parkman._ He laughed as he slid behind the wheel, but the laughter faded into a quiet contemplation as Audrey added, _Be safe_.

Looking at Molly, Matt mentally crossed his fingers, muttering, "God I hope so." With Sylar out there, Bennet's people lurking somewhere, and who knew how many people with powers, it was starting to look pretty damn dangerous and he didn't think a guy with a gun was going to cut it anymore.

"All right," he said, forcing some cheer into his voice. "How about some lunch before we head out of town?"

"Take out," said Molly. "And I want something with a toy."

"Okay, but you're having milk with the meal." Before she could protest, he held up one hand. "No milk, no toy."

Huffing a breath, Molly gave it some thought. "Chocolate milk."

"Deal," said Matt. It was a compromise, but he was going take his victories where he could get them. It was a long way to New York and he had a feeling that there were still a lot of battles ahead. Best to save his energy them. "McDonalds, with chocolate milk and a toy it is."

Sure. McDonalds, a toy, and a few superpowers on the side. Right. Just another day at the office. Fuck, he was so doomed.

-

To say Mohinder was flummoxed didn't quite do it justice. The last person he expected to see, when he opened the apartment door, was Matt. Much less Matt and a little girl. "What on -- "

Matt's mouth on his cut him off. The quick kiss wasn't nearly enough, but Mohinder took it as a promise of more. When they came up for air, he took one look at Matt and saw it. It was subtle, but the telltale signs of stress were there to be found. Stepping back, but keeping hold of Matt's hands, he asked, "What happened?"

"Sylar," said the little girl. Molly. She looked up at him. "He tried to take me at the FBI."

Mohinder's eyes widened. "He attacked the office?"

"Yeah," said Matt. "And that's not all."

-

Despite Mohinder's eagerness to know, Matt insisted on waiting until Molly was asleep in bed.

Exhausted from their whirlwind trip, that didn't take long. Looking in at her, Mohinder shook his head. "I can't imagine anyone hurting her."

"Neither can I," said Matt in a murmur. He heaved a sigh, leaning against the doorframe. "At least, not until I saw Sylar. God, Mohinder, you should have seen him. His eyes -- " he shook his head.

Mohinder watched the play of emotions across Matt's face. Reaching out, he curled a hand around Matt's. "How bad?"

Matt hesitated for a long moment, clearly battling with himself over how much to say. "He, uh, he's picked up telekinesis somewhere along the line. He -- " he sighed. "He was going to make me kill myself."

His admission hit Mohinder with all the subtlety of a sucker punch. "My god."

"Yeah," said Matt. "If Molly hadn't done what she did – we wouldn't be having this conversation." He smiled, proud. "She bit him. Hard. It wasn't much, but it distracted him long enough to let me get rid of the gun. Audrey shot him but – I don't think he's gone. We're not that lucky."

Mohinder tugged gently on his hand, pulling Matt forward into an embrace. "You're safe now. _Molly_ is safe."

"No," said Matt, speaking against Mohinder's neck. "That's the thing. No we're not. Sylar's not done with Molly and neither is Bennet. Things are going to get worse, Mohinder, they're going to get a lot worse. We need to find the others like me and Molly and we need to find them fast. I have a feeling all hell is about to break loose and when it does it's going to get bad."

Mohinder shivered. "I found my father's research. I haven't figured out how to decipher it yet, but I will. If I do, then we can use that to find them."

"Yeah, well, work fast," said Matt. He pulled back, cupping Mohinder's face in his hands. "We're running out of time."

fin


End file.
